Flames, Rain and Ashes
by whynotitsfun
Summary: A one shot that I wrote at one point that I decided to get off my hard drive. Short, kind of sweet. A stolen moment in time when the world burns around you.


The town around them was burning—Willoughby was burning. They'd all scattered when the lightening began to strike, hitting the buildings, setting them afire and scorching the dry ground. What they'd done next wasn't a question—evacuate as many people as they could.

Monroe caught Charlie's eye from across the square. They stood there unmoving for several minutes, just staring at each other. He slowly stepped into the street towards her. In a daze, she mirrored his actions. They met in the middle, stopping a few feet away from one another. They had no idea if the others made it out before the walls and gates began to burn or if they were dead somewhere else in the town.

This area of town had been the first to feel the wrath of the Nano and for the most part had stopped burning. The buildings around them were hollowed out shells, their insides still smoldering as the flames died for lack of fuel. The wind was whirling around them, hot from the conflagration and ashes were falling down on them like snow.

They were both covered in smudges of black soot and ash. He'd had to rip off his jacket when it had caught fire and his shirt had been torn when he'd snagged it trying to get out of the bar after helping a man that had been trapped to get out. His arm is bleeding beneath the rip in the sleeve.

Charlie had fared little better. Her hair was filthy from the smoke and she had a scratch on her shoulder that probably needed tending, or would if they'd had any chance of getting out. She had a bruise on one cheek, soot on the other. Monroe reached out and touched her, running his thumb along her cheekbone, stroking the smudge with the pad of his thumb.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. The exchange was almost intimate and so uncharacteristic for them both. Anyone who might have witnessed it would have mistaken it as a gesture between lovers, which they most certainly were not…

Charlie opened her eyes again and looked at him once more, blue eyes lost in blue. His hand fell away to hang limply at his side. She furrowed her brows as she watched him. She could read the regret so clearly shining through on his features, even as she could see his attempt to hide it and hide himself from her.

He saw the recognition in her eyes. They both knew that there was no escape for them now. The gates outside of town were blocked when portions of the wall collapsed, but the rest of it was simply impassible. The wooden beams supporting the walls had caught fire and the metal oil drums that made up the majority of the structure were too hot to consider touching. By saving the people of Willoughby they had signed their own death sentences. This was it—the smoke would eventually overtake them and they'd be gone.

Time came to a stop in that square. Charlie took a step forward, closing half of the distance between them; those eighteen inches changing everything. Monroe reached for her, his hands finding her waist and resting there lightly as he went the rest of the way.

Charlie felt like she was watching herself from the outside as her arms came up. She wrapped them around his neck, locking her wrist together and holding on. Her eyes were red and brimming but whether it was because of their eminent demise or the smoke he couldn't be sure. His own were also burning but he could not admit it to be more than the fire, even to himself.

Monroe wanted to say something but his mind wouldn't stop whirling long enough to come up with a coherent thought. "Charlie, I…" he trailed off, and she nodded as if she understood what he wanted to say, even if he didn't.

He bent his head and his mouth found hers. The moment their lips touched the rest of the world melted away and there was nothing left but the two of them. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and she opened for him. Their tongues met and that was it; their whole universe was that one kiss.

They explored and tasted and spoke to each other with every sweep of his tongue into her mouth. Off in the distance something exploded when the flames reached a relic from the world that was. Maybe it was a gas tank of an abandoned car, long forgotten in a garage somewhere. It didn't matter as they didn't even hear it.

When the skies opened up and the rain came they barely noticed, locked in a final embrace. He kept his hands locked on her hips, his thumbs moving in slow circles, massaging her through her jeans. In a different circumstance, it would have been arousing but as they waited for the fire to kill them she found it oddly comforting. It never occurred to them that the downpour above them was their salvation.

As they continued to kiss the rain slowly put out the flames. Smoke slowly turned to steam from the cold shower hitting the hot embers that were once Willoughby, but they were oblivious still. Her fingers idly played with the hair on the nape of his neck. Their mouths moved slowly and with tenderness that neither could have expected. The meaning behind it all was too much for it to be taken further.

Eventually, the rain served to extinguish the fire completely. It continued to fall, but they didn't stop. They lost track of how long they stood there together. It could have been an instant or an eternity for all they were concerned. They were unaware that an hour had passed from the moment they first locked eyes from across the street.

Monroe reluctantly broke off the kiss. His hands still on her waist, hers still around his neck, they took a look around. They turned their faces up and let the rain wash over them. He began to laugh in relief and before she knew it she'd joined him.

Charlie tightened her arms and buried her face in his chest. "We're alive," she said, incredulous. When she looked back up at him, he didn't have to guess if they were really tears now as they missed with the rain and ran down her face.

Again they turned their faces to the heavens. They opened their mouths to it, drinking it in and soothing their burning throats. Bass brought one hand up to cup her chin. He took in the sight of her, hair dripping, and a smile on her face. That smile obliterated any wall he'd ever built around himself.

He couldn't help but return that smile as he leaned in to kiss her again. He brought his hand around to the nape of her neck and tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her as close as he could. If that first kiss had started in the despair of what was to come, this one was a celebration of what might yet be.

Twenty minutes later, they were still at it, drenched and aware of only each other and the soft and gentle pattering of the rain, which had gone from a tempest to a light shower. Charlie's family, the Pittmans and Connor found them there, still lost in the embrace, mouths moving together. They'd found one another outside of town, all of them despairing the loss of Charlie; Miles and Connor alone stricken by the possibility that he'd perished as well.

After several shocked minutes, Miles cleared his throat loudly… several times. The sound eventually registered with them and they turned their heads towards the source. Two pairs of blue eyes grew wide when they realized they'd just been caught. The looks of horror and shock on those six faces had them turning away to face one another again. He rested his forehead on hers and started to laugh at the absurdity of the compromising situation they'd just found themselves in. Once more, it was infectious and she caught it quickly. The others continued to stare as if they'd lost their minds.

Monroe grabbed her face with both hands and crashed his mouth on hers a third time. _Let them watch_, he thought as she began to respond once more. As the storm passed over them, they continued on in the street. Eventually, Aaron and Priscilla walked away. Gene and Connor just shrugged and wandered off as well towards the gaping hole that had been left in the wall after the flames had subsided and the barrels collapsed, having been cooled by the rain. Miles and Rachel eventually would follow.

Everyone had considered at one point or another breaking them apart, but there was something about the way they'd laughed before going right back at it that had given them pause. "Joe Matthews has offered to put us up for the night if you'd care to join us when you're done playing tonsil hockey," Miles called over his shoulder as he pulled Rachel away, both of them trying to expunge what they'd seen from their minds.

It was hours later before Monroe and Charlie could be seen walking up the drive to Joe's place outside of town. They walked hand in hand wordlessly, smiling at one another like two teenagers coming home from a first date. They were quite noticeably covered in mud from head to toe.

They shed their boots on the porch before Monroe opened the door, allowing her to enter first before closing it gently behind him. His hand rested lightly on the small of her back as he led her from the foyer into the living room. Sensing the tension, Heather Matthews jumped up to show Charlie where she could dry off and to give her something to change into while her clothes dried. Before there was bloodshed in his home, Joe did the same with Monroe.

Later he was sitting down next to the fire in his poorly fitting borrowed clothes. He'd already washed the mud out of both of their clothes and had just laid them out to dry. Miles came up behind him. "I'm so gonna kill you, Bass."

He turned in the chair and looked up at him. "Well that's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Extreme? You just banged my niece!"

Monroe did a double take. "Banged? What? No, all I did was kiss her."

Miles sank down on the couch across from him. "You've been gone for hours," he insisted. He didn't even bother to mention the fact that they'd both obviously been rolling around together in the mud.

Monroe closed his eyes and enjoyed a brief memory of the event in question, rubbing his bearded chin absently. "Yeah, well it was one hell of a kiss."


End file.
